


Interlude

by NightsMistress



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2163915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsMistress/pseuds/NightsMistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crush is a terrible thing to bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paperclipbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbitch/gifts).



> Thank you to boywonder for betaing this for me. ♥

It’s been three weeks since David orchestrated the meeting the Young Avengers, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever see his own bed again. Before he ended up on this horrible roadtrip, he had never thought he would never miss his shoebox of an apartment. It is in an awful part of town, cold in winter and sweltering in summer, and he is sure that the only reason he hasn’t been burgled is because he owns nothing worth stealing. But it is his, and he misses it now that he doesn’t know if he’ll see it again. 

It’s looking unlikely at the moment. They’re stranded in a world where evolution took a slightly different tack, or at least that’s what David has to assume based on all the lizard people wearing clothes. Unfortunately, after a heated exchange of words and laser blasts, the Young Avengers are currently hiding in the wreckage of what looks to be a hunting cabin, albeit much larger than they tend to be. 

The reason why they are stuck in this dimension is Loki. It’s always Loki, in David’s experience. The trail had been going thin for a few worlds now, and now it doesn’t exist at all. Loki promised he could find it again, and that he just needed a night to find it. That’s where the pentagram comes into it. It’s a small five starred drawing made of Marmite on the floor, and Loki is guarding it jealously from all comers.

David, honestly, is more interested in where he was keeping the Marmite in the first place.

“Shoo,” Loki huffs over his shoulder at David. “Now is not the time to be nosy.”

David turns his attention to the others. 

“It’s clear,” America says. “Nothing for miles.”

“Not surprising,” Kate says from where she is leaned against the wall. Her arms are folded against the brisk evening air, not quite cold enough for a jacket but cool enough to be uncomfortable. “We _are_ in the middle of nowhere.”

“Iowa actually,” Teddy says with a wry smile. “But I guess that’s the same thing.” He’s already settled for the night, a conjured blanket wrapped around him as he sits, back against the wall of what might have been the sitting room once, and he stretches out a kink in his back. 

“We can’t stop here,” Billy says fretfully as he paces the room around the axis of Teddy. He shoves his hand through his hair in agitation, which he’s done several times already. If it weren’t for the fact that Billy fixes his hair with magic, he would have hair pointing in all directions. Instead, it falls back into something closely approximating the way it was before. “We have to find them.”

“We will, once we pick up the trail again,” Teddy says. He’s soothing in the way that he always is, and David has no idea how he manages it. Billy has been propelled by nervous energy for the last few days and David is increasingly sure that the only reason that he hasn’t taken them out with a magical mishap is because of Teddy’s steadying presence.

“Who knows when that’ll be,” Billy mutters. “We are relying on _Loki_ , after all.”

“I said it was going to take a few hours!” Loki protests. “I’m not lying about that!”

“Not helping,” America says, all but rolling her eyes at Loki.

“Billy,” Kate says firmly. “Sit down.”

This time he does, next to Teddy, and David releases a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. He’d predicted that if any of them were to strike out on their own, it would be Billy, as he had both the talent and the poor judgment. After all, it was those traits that meant that they were trying to avoid the attention of Teddy’s mother to begin with.

“We cannot do anything but rest right now,” Noh-Varr observes from where he has also set up for the night. “We have to be ready for whatever will come.”

He is, unfortunately, right. Of late, they’ve been catching one or two hours sleep as they go from one place to another, taking it in turns so that there’s always four awake. It’s hard going, and David knows that he’s tired enough that he’s starting to make stupid mistakes.

“We need watches though,” Kate says. “Two people at once.”

David examines their group to work out which order everyone should go in. 

He doesn’t trust Loki to keep watch in a way that is advantageous to anyone not himself, and in any event he needs to pay attention to his scrying spell. It is their only way forward, after all, and David will not turn back with Tommy unsaved. He has not been an X-Man for a very long time, but that is a lesson he learned: do not leave a teammate behind.

America looks like she could stand watch the whole night without any difficulty, and David wonders, for not the first time, what her life was like to make her so solidly self-reliant. She raises her eyebrow at his gaze.

“I’m second watch,” she says. It makes sense. Second watch is the hardest one, but he’s seen that she falls asleep very quickly. “He doesn’t get one at all,” she adds, jerking a thumb at Loki.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” David says honestly.

Loki sighs like the most martyred person in the multiverse. David ignores him. So does everyone else.

“I’ll take second as well,” Noh-Varr says.

“Billy and I’ll be third,” Kate says. Billy mutters something that could be an agreement, but it’s too sleepy to make any sense of. Teddy shifts to allow Billy a more comfortable position on the floor and David tamps down a flare of jealousy as best he can.

That leaves David and Teddy on the first watch. Logically that’s the better option than anything else. 

David knows he’s lying to himself. He knows this as he dims the light and settles into position to keep watch. He knows that his crush, consuming as it is, cannot consume him wholly because there is no point to it. It’s illogical to pine after someone who will never return your feelings.

And yet Billy is sleeping in Teddy’s lap, the two of them holding hands, and all David can think is that if he were Billy, he’d never hurt Teddy like this. Teddy looks exhausted, dirt smeared on his face, and David knows that if he didn’t have a healing factor, there’d be a spectacular bruise blossoming from the last world they were in. He should be asleep. Instead, he’s watching out for all of them to make sure that they are safe, smoothing Billy’s hair from his face as he dreams.

“You should sleep,” David whispers. It carries in the night air and he’s glad he didn’t speak any louder. He doesn’t want to wake the others up. “I can stay up on my own and it’s not long until the next shift.”

“You should first,” Teddy says, equally quiet. “I know you’ve had the last shift last time.”

“Can’t sleep,” David says on a sigh. 

“Yeah, me too,” Teddy says. “The second last place we visited … _brrr_.”

The second last place they’d been to, the trail had gone weak or thin -- Loki changed his mind how he described it depending on his mood -- and they’d had to use him as a magical bloodhound to find where America would have to put her portal next. The jokes about putting him on a leash fell flat as they wandered the scorched landscape. Some kind of high energy weapon had been detonated there; the sharp ionised smell and the strange prickly feeling on David’s skin were the only clues as to what it might be. He is glad to be rid of that place.

“I’ve seen that before,” David says thoughtfully. “The weapon.”

“Yeah?”

“One of the X-Men has, anyway,” David said. 

“Oh yeah, you’ve got all of their skills. How does that work?”

For a moment, David thinks about telling Teddy about it. He thinks about telling him about how he could unlock all of Iceman’s potential if only he knew what words to tell Mr Drake. He thinks about how he can effortlessly calculate the likelihood of their surviving a relentless assault of Sentinels from the future. He thinks about telling Teddy about how he does and doesn’t want his powers back, because he is so afraid of what he could be if he did but how he feels like he’s a traitor to his classmates for being able to not only pass as human but _be_ human.

“I can fake being a telepath like a pro,” he says instead. “Press your fingers against your temples, squeeze and make a face.”

“That’s so stereotypical,” Teddy says, half laughing. 

“It had to come from somewhere,” David says. “Why not the Professor?”

Teddy doesn’t say anything and David sits up straighter to better study Teddy’s body language. There’s enough light that his night-adjusted eyes can see Teddy clear as anything, and the stolen knowledge in the back of his mind fills in the rest. It’s like being a telepath, only it’s based on extrapolation. 

“It’s the smell,” Teddy says finally. “It almost reminds me of …” He trails off then and stares at the ground.

“Your mom?” It’s less of a question than it appears; David knows what happened to Mrs Altman. It’s his job to know things, and he is very good at it. He also knows what is missing, because he had noticed it earlier as well: the smell of burning human flesh. It’s something you don’t forget. Or forgive that you survived when others didn’t.

“Yeah,” Teddy says. “Like my mom.” He takes a shuddering breath and if it weren’t for the fact that Billy was sprawled across Teddy’s lap, David might have tried to touch his shoulder.

“That’s got to be hard, fighting her,” David says, at a loss to say anything else. Unfortunately none of the X-Men he had met when he had his powers had the skill of knowing what to say to comfort people, and so it was all David.

“That’s not my mom,” Teddy says. “That’s something that looks like her.”

David knows he doesn’t believe that. He’s been around Teddy long enough to know that he clenches his jaw when he’s lying, as if he is trying to hold the truth inside the cage of his teeth. He knows that when Teddy is lying his gaze shifts to everywhere but where his listener is, and he knows that for all that Teddy is a shapeshifter, he cannot control the way he tenses up while waiting for confirmation that his lie has been believed.

He also knows why he has studied Teddy so long that he knows these things. Fortunately, one of them has learned from the best about how to lie effectively and how to know if that lie is believed.

“So you’ll be okay fighting her?”

“Yeah,” Teddy says. “I have to. For Billy.”

It always comes back to Billy in the end. This whole quest is to fix Billy’s mistakes. Their peculiar little team is about trying to support Billy. Teddy’s whole life seems to be about being the perfect boyfriend for Billy. David thinks this is terribly unfair. Teddy deserves this attention as well.

“You’ll need to sleep first,” David says. There’s a silent plea that he take better care of himself for his own sake, but Teddy doesn’t pick up on it. “You look awful.”

“Yeah,” he says, and David can see the flash of teeth in the dark as he smiles. “I do. You’re a good friend.”

“Not that great,” David mutters, not quite loud enough that Teddy can hear it as he settles back against the wall. He holds his breath as Teddy shifts after he says that, but Teddy says nothing.

This does little to ease his nerves. He can feel Kate’s gaze on him.

“I know you’re awake,” he says on a sigh, and Kate sits up and smooths her hair from her face.

“You did good,” she says, and David can feel himself flush.

“No problem,” he says, and lies down to stare at nothing.


End file.
